


Blunt

by grus



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Community: comicdrabbles, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grus/pseuds/grus
Summary: Jason Todd reflects on his life in his final moments.





	Blunt

**Author's Note:**

> Written in August 2012 for comicdrabbles @ lj (challenge #6 - sharp)

Jason Todd had always expected to die by a knife. Life had taught him that not each crook could afford a gun, but almost all of them had at least a pocket knife. He'd confirmed this truth many a time back in his Crime Alley days, always trying to protect the girls from their pimps (much good did it do both him and them...) or trying to screw things up a bit for dealers, selling their stuff to school kids, even much younger than him. 

Sure, some thugs chose a baseball bat or a tire iron instead, but most of those dirtbags were huge, slow oafs, making broad swings, ones that he would dodge easily. Knives and their wielders were faster, smaller, deadlier and more treacherous. You could miss the glint of a diminutive blade being pulled out of a pocket... 

Hence he knew the slice of a knife almost intimately. His skin had been caught by one so many times, leaving a brilliant red gash and then a jagged white scar. He knew how to deal with the pain, how to embrace it, some days, right after Catherine's death, he almost welcomed it. Sometimes, late in the night, when he couldn't sleep from hunger, he would imagine his death - a stab or a slice ending it all, him bleeding out in a matter of minutes in some dark corner and passing out in a pool of his own blood.

Being Robin hadn't changed much. That one time he got shot multiple times and saved only thanks to doctor Thompkins was like a dream. He'd spent most of it unconscious and then woke up to Bruce's concerned face. Bruce looking at him like that, like his death would have meant something, like he would be missed... that made it almost a good memory. 

So when the crowbar falls again, breaking bones and bruising flesh instead of slicing, he almost laughs, or rather grins and wheezes. This is not how he had expected it to happen. Not at all.


End file.
